Novel & Cerita Killian Ouat

BREA POV "Do not underestimate Killian, he's a maniac when it comes to totally destroying his opponent, so when you get in there, do not give him any opportunity to attack you or it will be all over before the match even starts" Andre got out, anxiety rolling off him in waves.

He had black eyeglasses on and his hair was the usual neat and blonde. "What are you doing here? Ooh, you missed Paisley, didn't you?" I elbowed Paisley beside me who has a poker face. If I know, deep inside she's screaming at the top of her lungs. "No," Laurent shook his head and leaned at me. "I'm here to see you, love." "Call her like that again and I'll pull your head out." Killian stood in front of me and there again, Laurent and him started their 1,549th war.

"Don't do this, Killian; you’ve been better for months; don’t destroy yourself; you need to heal soon; it’s been two years." "Fuck you, Deon,” Killian mutters as he stands up from the lounge chair, passing Deon by and bumping his friend's shoulder hard enough to show his anger. Before he walked out of the room. The minute he walked into the main club, loud thumps of music thrummed through him as he walked outside of the club. He then walked out fast into the cold night, with people lined outside, some shocked to see the billionaire extraordinaire, Killian Grey, in a drunken outfit.

he drawled, "took you long enough. I was beginning to think you had changed your mind about spending the weekend with me." I rolled my eyes but could not help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Dream on, Killian," I replied, climbing into the passenger seat as he held the door open. Killian was hard to ignore—he was a huge guy, broad-shouldered and tall, with a presence that demanded attention. His dark hair was always a bit unruly, a perfect contrast to his sharp jawline and intense green eyes. His left arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo, the ink swirling down his arm in an intricate design—black lines, shaded geometric patterns, and symbols that I could not fully make sense of but seemed t

Evelyn's POV "I, Alpha Kyle Turner, reject you, Evelyn Sanders, as my mate." Alpha Kyle hoarse voice boomed in my ears making me freeze on my tracks, his voice laced with disgust. Crack! A cracking sound resounded inside my body and I felt as if a part of me was forcefully torn and taken away. My wolf howled in pain but there was nothing I could do about it. Tears flowed down my face as the pain became immeasurable, increasing with each second to the point I was unable to tolerate it. I could care less about the gazes on me. I was already used to it.

CHAPTER SIXTY: Jade’s POV Sheila’s mouth parted slightly. For a second, she did not even look angry. She looked stunned. Like she could not process the fact that Killian Montclair had just chosen my side so publicly. Beside her, the footballer reacted differently. His face lit up like Christmas morning. "Oh!" he said, straightening his shoulders. "Montclair. Pleasure to meet you. Kieran Stone." He stretched out his hand confidently. Killian did not move. He did not even blink. His gaze stayed on Sheila like Kieran did not exist, like the man’s extended hand was simply air. Kieran’s smile faltered, but he tried to hold it, standing there with his hand out like an idiot.

I wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but I knew that I needed warm water on my skin; otherwise, I was going to have to deal with more than just my sore muscles. Killian smiled and took me to the bathroom, holding me in his arms and I couldn’t help but smile. “What are you doing, Killian?” I asked, and he smirked before putting me to sit on the counter. “I am preparing my Luna’s bath,” he said, turning on the water in the tub, allowing the warm water to fill it. He threw in two bombs, and the smell of coconut instantly filled my nostrils, making my chest swell. Killian smiled and kissed my cheek before spreading my legs using his thigh.

Killian appeared in the kitchen, looking handsome in his navy suit and slightly frazzled from his morning of helping various children get ready. "Liam finally agreed to the dress shoes," he announced. "Though he negotiated for the right to change into sneakers for the reception dancing." "That seems fair," Bella said, straightening his tie. At fifty-five, Killian had silver threading through his dark hair and laugh lines around his eyes that spoke of decades of joy and laughter. His construction business had grown into one of the most respected in the region, and he had recently started mentoring young contractors, passing on not just technical skills but the integrity and work ethic that ha

He grinned at her in a way she could only describe as predatory. "Who are you?" Liv tried to stand, but was still unable to make it to her feet. Her head swam from the blow to her head. "Come now, beauty. Let me help you." The strange man lifted her by the armpits and walked her to a fur covered chair near a table. "I am Killian O'Mara of the Blackfoot Pack," he said with the slightest Irish lilt to his voice. He gave her a courtly little bow before sitting in the chair across the table from her.

Grips and gaffers hurriedly maneuvered equipment, and the makeup artist tried to figure out how to make a fresh wound look convincingly painful. In the midst of this backstage circus, Kat screamed a name. "Killian Anderson. No fucking way!" Ah, Killian – heir to the Anderson production, reportedly arrogant, undeniably rich, and, according to the rumor mill, as handsome as a demigod. Now, this was the kind of gossip I could get behind.